The Last Five Years
by Dulcineah
Summary: The story of Frasier and Lilith's marriage. **3/11/03--two more chapters up!**
1. Default Chapter

Author's Notes: 

This was a random idea, but I have a pretty good idea how how it'll play out. The characters aren't mine, the concept belongs to Jason Robert Brown, and whatever lyrics I end up using in later chapters are his too. In summary, this is Frasier and Lilith's relationship as portrayed in The Last Five Years. Feedback is revered and adored. 

The Last Five Years 

By Dulcey 

He's been gone for three days now. Three nights I've woken up sobbing, and three mornings there's been no one beside me in the bed where Frasier used to tickle my feet, or press his forehead to mine so his brilliant blue eyes were the first thing I saw when I woke up. He's somewhere across the country now, Nebraska maybe, or possibly Montana, en route to Seattle. He told me two weeks ago that he was leaving to move across the country. That our attempt at saving our marriage had failed, and he'd already seen a lawyer about divorce. And that, although he didn't say this out loud, he'd come to hate me so much that even living on the same side of the continent was now intolerable to him. 

When I began to cry, he just stood there, and made no effort to comfort me. This wasn't the Frasier I knew. This wasn't the man I'd married. It was really over, and the worst thing about it was that it was all my fault. 

Maybe Frasier was right, maybe I was simply a statistic. A woman in her mid-thirties who was measuring her accomplishments to what she'd expected to accomplish. I wasn't sure how much I believed this, but it was the only explanation I could come up with as to why I would cheat on my husband, and abandon my son. Why I would hurt the two people who meant the most to me, and shatter the happiness Frasier and I had spent the last five years building. 

There's a corner of the dining room that smells like him. I don't know why and I don't know how, but when I stand there, I can sniff the cologne he always wore, and feel his arms encircle my waist, his breath warm my neck, and experience the feeling that my husband was here, and I was safe, and nothing could possibly make my life any better than it already was. 

He said he loved me. He said he'd never leave me. Of course, that was before I slept with another man and broke his heart. I deserved every bit of what I was feeling. Deserved more, even. Was this what it had been like for Frasier when I was gone? Did he stand in the bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror like I am now, hating himself for driving the love of his life away? No, he wouldn't have done that. He would have hated me for leaving. I don't hate him for going. I hate myself for making him go. 

Sometimes when it gets too unbearable I go lie down on the couch in his study. The room's just as he left it. He took most of his books with him, so the shelves and walls are depressingly bare. But the sofa is still in there, and the worn red blanket on top of it. If I pull it over me, I can pretend that he's lying right here with me, and fall asleep for a few precious hours, forgetting that he's gone, and that I'm the reason he left. It's too much. I can't go on. 

But I have Frederick. My son. Frasier's son. A little piece of him who still hugs me, who still loves me. And it's for him that I continue to go on. 

There's an envelope in the desk drawer. I left it as it was for the first two days, and finally opened it this morning when I couldn't stand it any more. Inside were the pictures of me that Henri had taken, the ones I'd given Frasier for his birthday two years ago. Tears came to my eyes as I realized that he hadn't cared enough about me to take them with him. Why should he care? What had I done besides break hisheart and shatter his life? 

The days tick by. My life remains empty and meaningless without Frasier. 


	2. 2

Author's notes: 

A quick note for all of you not familiar with The Last Five Years. This story is going to be told in an unusual format, with Lilith starting at the end of their relationship and working backwards, and Frasier starting at the beginning and working forwards. That's essentially all you need to know, so hopefully the rest of this will be pretty clear. Thanks for the reviews and enjoy. 

Chapter 2 

When I woke up this morning, she was still there. I thought it had all been a dream, after all, didn't she hate me? I'd thought she did, as I'd thought I hated her. We'd met at a chemical dependency seminar, we'd had a disasterous first date, and I'd thought I would be content never to see her again. But then she showed up as my debate partner on Psychology This Week, and her hair was down and she looked beautiful and I'd been reduced to a stammering schoolboy. 

I remembered how I'd carried her out of Cheers, and how we'd barely paused for breath since we got back to my place, our clothes scattering across the living room and up the stairs. I could hear her timid voice say something, and I'd stopped and looked at her in concern. "What?" 

She blushed. "I said it's my first time." 

"Oh." What was I supposed to say to that? "Well, if you don't want to--" 

"Frasier--" 

"I know, it's okay, you don't have to explain to me, I understand--" 

"Frasier." I stopped and looked back at her. "I still want to do this." 

Now this I hadn't expected. I hadn't been with many women since Diane dumped me, and I was used to being rejected with every possible excuse that ever existed. And now I was here with a beautiful woman, who'd never been with anyone else, and she wanted to be with *me*? 

She fell asleep when it was over, her arms around my waist, her head fitting perfectly into that space between my neck and my shoulder. I remember looking down at her and realizing that for the first time in a long time, I was happy. 

And now she was here, curled up beside me, looking beautifully trusting and innocent in the early morning light that fell across the bed. I gently smoothed her hair, and dropped a kiss on her forehead, and those beautiful dark eyes fluttered open. 

"Hi," I smiled. "Sleep well?" 

She looked startled for a moment, then that luminous smile that I remembered so well from last night crept across her face. "Hey there, stranger." 

We make breakfast together. She makes the toast, and I make everything else. Laughing, she informs me she's not much of a cook. The toast is a little on the burnt side, but I put extra jelly on it and assure her it's delicious. She smiles shyly at me. I feel like the luckiest man in the world. 

Then we have to go to work, but I see her again that night. And the next. I've never felt this way about anyone before. I'm happy, and I can't believe that things won't be like this forever. 


	3. 3

I nervously followed Frasier into the house. We hadn't said more than six words to each other since climbing into the car after leaving Cheers. At the time I was just happy and relieved that he'd taken me back. I'd honestly expected him to turn his back and never speak me. It was no more than I deserved, after what I'd done to him. But then he had taken me back. He'd hugged me and said "Welcome home, Lilith." 

But silence had descended once we were in the car, with the only sound being the quiet hum of the heater and the steady beat of the windshield wipers against the rain. I huddled in my seat, wishing we could skip this awkward silence and go back to how things had been before. The thought was so absurd that I wanted to laugh. There was no going back. Possibly no going forward either. 

"I'll just be a moment." Frasier's tone is apologetic. "I have to go change the sheets on the bed for you." 

For me? As in I would be sleeping in the bed, and he would be sleeping elsewhere? Or was I getting paranoid and reading too much into everything and nothing? "Oh, okay." Which sounded dumb, but what else was there to say? 

He returned, holding a pillow to his chest, a nervous grin twitching across his face. "You must be tired, I'm sure. I'll get out of your way and let you go to bed." 

I was tired but not enough that my heart didn't sink when I heard his words. "Get out of my way?" 

"I thought I'd sleep in my study tonight," he explained. "We can talk in the morning." 

"No." I didn't realize I'd said it out loud until I saw the look of surprise on his face. I hadn't meant to do that, but I couldn't go sleep in that bed alone. Not after waiting so long to see Frasier, after coming so far and through so much to be here again. I looked at him pleadingly, but either he didn't see or he didn't care. 

"Lilith, I can't do this right now," he told me. "We'll talk tomorrow." 

"I've missed you so much," I whispered, feeling the tears sting my eyes. "Can't you just sit with me for awhile?" 

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Lilith. Not tonight." 

I watched him walk into his study and close the door, quietly and politely shutting me out of his life. In a daze, I walked back into our bedroom, now my bedroom. My clothes were still in the drawers, and hanging in the closet, as if I'd never left. Standing here, it was so easy to believe that I'd never left, that my husband was going to walk though that door any minute and kiss me in that way he had that always made my heart stop. 

I couldn't keep doing this. I couldn't stand it anymore. All that had kept me going on the past six months was the thought of Frasier, and how I'd make it up to him a thousand times over. It never occurred to me that he might not want to make it up to him, that he might not want me back. 

I climbed into bed and pulled the covers over my head. Sleep was a long time coming. 


	4. 4

She hadn't said more than six words to me since midnight, when Sam and I finally got tired of our little game and unlocked the bathroom door. Diane had strode out immediately, her head held high in that haughty manner I knew so well. Even a few months ago it would have torn at me to see her, knowing she no longer loved me and perhaps never had. Now, I had no feelings beyond a friendly concern. It was Lilith I loved, and Lilith who I worried about. 

Diane said a frosty goodbye to me and left with Sam in tow. Our eyes met as she dragged him to the door, and I gave him my best sympathetic look. Heaven help the poor man when the two of them got outside. 

Looking around, I saw no sign of Lilith. I called her name, and upon receiving no response, peered into the bathroom. She was huddled next to the towel cabinets, her knees drawn to her chest. I started to ask if she was all right, but the words died in my mouth as I caught her frosty glare. This wasn't good. 

I tried again. "Lilith, I--" 

She stood up, brushed herself off, and strode past me out of the bathroom, without giving me a second glance. 

By the time I got upstairs, she was already in the shower. I normally would have stripped off my clothes and gone to ask her if she wanted any company, but it hardly seemed appropriate at this point in time. I had screwed up royally, and something told me it would take a lot to get her forgiveness. 

I changed into my pajamas and sat back on my bed, although I had a feeling I'd be spending tonight on the couch. Lilith emerged from the bathroom in a bathrobe, rubbing her hair with a towel. She glanced in my direction, then stepped into her closet without a word. 

"You're still mad, aren't you?" 

The door opened and she stuck her head out. When I looked at her, I could see that her eyes were red and puffy. "Wouldn't you say I had a right to be?" 

"Lilith, I'm sorry," I pleaded. "That was thoughtless and immature of me." 

"Don't you get it?" She threw her towel to the floor. "You really think I'm upset about that stupid stunt you and Sam pulled?" 

"I know it was dumb," I stammered, not sure of what she wanted me to say. "I didn't mean to upset you." 

"I'm not mad about that!" She exclaimed in exasperation. "I'm upset because I thought we'd been honest with each other, and you never bothered to tell me that you and Diane were engaged." 

"Lilith, it was two years ago," I pleaded. "It was before I even knew you." 

"I know that, Frasier." She shook her head. "I'm just hurt that you didn't trust me enough to think I'd understand." 

"I was afraid I'd lose you if I told you," I confessed. "I knew you were uncomfortable with the idea of me still seeing Diane at the bar. I just wanted to spare you any more of that." I took a deep breath. "But I was wrong, and I'm sorry." 

"I'm sorry too." She picked up the towel, folded it, and placed it neatly on a chair. "It's just that this is all so new to me. I've never been in a serious relationship before." 

"I think we both have a lot of learning left to do," I assured her. "But I really think we have something good together." 

She came over and sat beside me. I put an arm around her, and she snuggled against my shoulder. "I think so too." 


	5. 5

It hadn't been over for longer than thirty seconds before I was sorry. 

Louis was now hugging me to him, in an almost pathetic attempt to snuggle. I put up with it for a moment while I tried to figure out a way to politely excuse myself from the situation. My thoughts made me laugh. This wasn't like being cornered by an annoying friend at the grocery store, or trapped on the phone by a telemarketer. I had just cheated on my husband. I was an adultress. I had promised to love and cherish Frasier for the rest of my days, and now I was about to shatter his heart. 

Maybe I didn't have to. Maybe he didn't have to know. Yes, we'd been having problems lately, but didn't everyone? I'd tell Louis I couldn't see him anymore, and I'd go home to my husband and kiss him and promise to love him for the rest of my life. Frasier would never know how I'd betrayed him. 

But I'd know. It would be there in my mind every time Frasier smiled at me, blind trust and absolute faith in me written all over his face. I would have to live with a man who loved and trusted me, and who had no idea that I'd broken our marriage vows. It wouldn't be fair to him. I had cheated on him, but I wouldn't lie to him. I owed him at least that much. 

Louis had moved on to tickling my feet. I pulled away. "Louis, don't." 

He propped himself up on one elbow. "Lilith, what's wrong?" 

I held the sheet to my chest as I reached down to the floor for my shirt. "We made a mistake, Louis. I let things go too far, and I'm sorry." 

"Wait," he protested, touching my cheek gently. "I think we have something special here." 

He's looking at me the way Frasier used to, with utter love and devotion in his eyes. That's what brought me here to this man's bed in the first place. Because I hadn't been getting what I needed from my husband. I loved Frasier, but for so long we had been blindly stumbling along, barely even noticing each other any more. He was spending almost every night at Cheers, not coming home till the wee hours of the morning. We would get up for work in the morning, share a silent breakfast in the kitchen, and then I wouldn't see him again for another twenty-four hours. 

I knew how much Cheers meant to him. I knew how he enjoyed having a place to spend time with his friends. But I needed him too. Apparently he didn't need me, though, and that hurt more than anything. I was thirty-four years old. I'd been married for five years. I never thought Frasier and I would end up like this. He was probably at Cheers right now, drinking a beer or playing darts, with no clue that his wife was currently in bed with another man. 

I pulled away from Louis again. "I can't do this," I told him, my voice shaking. "I can't do this to Frasier." 

He nodded slowly. "All right." 

"Thank you," I whispered, blinking back tears. 

He got out of bed, clad in his boxer shorts. "I'm going to go get dressed," he informed me, picking up items of clothing from around the room. "Then I'll take you home." 

The bathroom door clicked closed behind him. I tried to swallow back my guilt as I began to dress. 


	6. 6

She deserved so much more. All she'd gotten was a panicked proposal in the middle of a bar, after I'd broken up with her for another woman who wasn't even interested in me. She should have had a fancy dinner in an elegant restaurant, and moonlight and a beautiful diamond ring that sparkled on her finger. She deserved a man who wouldn't come so close to screwing up the best thing that ever happened to him. 

But she still said yes. And for that, I'll always be thankful. 

I hadn't wanted to get married again. I was thirty-two, a young man still, and already with one failed marriage under my belt. The whole affair with Nanette was a mistake made by a mere boy, but it had rattled me badly. I'd grown up believing that marriage was a lifetime committment, and at the time, I'd honestly thought I was ready to settle down. Foolish beliefs from a foolish boy, I now realize, but I'd believed that once you said "I do", then that was it, and the two of you would be together forever. 

It hadn't taken longer than two months for me to suspect I'd made a horrible mistake. I genuinely liked Nanette. She was outgoing, full of life, and, to put it plainly, the sex was great. But I didn't love her. I couldn't see myself spending the rest of my life with her. If we lasted longer than a year, I thought I'd go insane. 

I kept this to myself for another two months before Nanette began to suspect, and demanded to know what was going on. We divorced the week after. 

For the rest of medical school, I dated casually, but never let myself become too attached to any girl. I was still so young, I reminded myself. I had plenty of time to get married. I graduated, and began my residency at Goldenbrook, where I met Diane. 

That was a story in itself, and far too long to write here. Suffice to say, I emerged from the whole affair bitter and angry, swearing myself to never let a woman humiliate me like that again, and never to let one get close enough to me to try. 

I was terrified when Lilith first brought up the prospect of marriage. I remember stammering some excuse about having plenty of time, trying to ignore the hurt look in her eyes. I remember being furious at myself for letting her get this close, and for letting things between us get this serious. I'd promised myself that it would be a cold day in hell before I let myself get trapped again. 

And yet, now that we're engaged instead of merely cohabitating, committed to each other instead of simply having a good time, I'm not afraid at all. All I feel is irritated at myself for almost letting her get away, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude that I didn't. I love her. I've said it to her often, but this is the first time I've said it to myself. I love Lilith Sternin, and all I want is to marry her and spend the rest of my life with her. 

Tomorrow I'm calling in sick at work, and taking her up to New York for three days. I've already reserved a room at the Plaza. I'm taking her out to dinner, and when that's over, I'm going to take her to Tiffany's and let her pick out any ring she wants. 

"I love you," I whisper to her, curled up against me, fast asleep. Maybe it's my imagination, but I think I see her smile in her sleep. Right now, I am the happiest man alive. 


	7. 7

It's going on one thirty, and my husband still isn't home yet. When I called Cheers, Sam told me he was currently in the back room for a darts tournament, but he'd have Frasier call me right back as soon as he was done. That was at six, and Frasier never called. 

I suppose I should be used to it by now. I know he's not cheating on me--his behavior doesn't fit any of the patterns of infidelity, besides, Frasier's just not the type of person to do that. I know that when he stood up there on our wedding day and promised to be faithful, he meant it. No, it's not another woman that's come between us. To be honest, I don't know what it is. 

He spends just about every night down at Cheers, drinking with his friends while I stay at home, taking care of our son and hoping desperately that Frederick won't see how unhappy I am. That Frasier will come home early for once, and do more than peck me on the cheek and fall asleep. We had been so happy once. What happened to us? 

I turned over on my side, hugging Frasier's pillow to my chest. It smells like his unique scent of cologne and aftershave, and if I try really hard, I can pretend for a few minutes that I'm holding him instead. Other times I stare up at the ceiling, trying to come up with a reason as to why Frasier prefered everyone at Cheers to me. Did I nag him too much? Was he simply getting more out of being with them than he did with me? 

The door creaked open. I shut my eyes and waited for Frasier to take off his shoes, then fall into bed beside me. Nothing. I risked opening my eyes, and saw my son standing in the doorway, clutching his stuffed octupus to his chest. "Mommy?" 

I quickly wiped the tears from my eyes and hoped that in the darkness, he wouldn't notice that I'd been crying. "Frederick, what are you doing up?" 

"I can't sleep," he whimpered, climbing into bed beside me. "Where's Daddy?" 

Oh, God, how was I supposed to answer this? "Daddy had to work late," I lied. "But he'll be sure to kiss you goodnight when he gets home." 

"Why isn't he here anymore?" My son whimpered. "Doesn't he like us?" 

"Of course he does," I whispered. "Your father loves you so much, and so do I." 

He curled up in my lap. "Promise?" 

"I promise." I hoped I was right about this. "Do you want to go back to sleep now?" 

Frederick nodded. I picked him up and carried him into his room, tucking him back into bed and kissing his forehead. He was asleep before I left the room. 

Alone back in my bed, I watched the minutes tick away on the clock beside the bed. One forty-five. Two o'clock. Around two fifteen, I heard the front door open, and Frasier come up the stairs. He was in bed ten minutes later, snoring away, unaware that I was crying quietly right beside him. 

It wasn't the first time he'd come in this late. But it was the first time he forgot my birthday. 


End file.
